Page 2 of I Dream of Dragons

It was a lifetime ago. The world changed. An age passed.

A hundred years.

And here I am now, looking at the boy I once loved standing on the terrace overlooking the sea arena. He’s crowned with nightgold and dressed in the blue mantle of his royal office, watching as I step onto the boat that will sail me to my death.

That wasn’t the plan we made, was it, my love?

PART I

Tread Softly, but Carry a Dagger

CHAPTER ONE

RAE

Jai isn’t here.

We are gathered on one of the lower palace terraces, the humans who survived the first trial, waiting for the telchin and the boat that will carry us to the other side of the arena. To the entry point.

Dragons circle overhead, riding on currents. They look to be draks, your average colorful middle-sized dragon sort, used by the king’s army to ride into battle—or mostly to burn down villages and towns, and to kill any human opposing the fae king’s rule.

In contrast, the Great Dara live near the firmament, so high up they are rarely seen. They aren’t visible now, nor do I expect them to be.

As for the smallest dragon kin, the darakin, of whom I’ve seen a lot of recently—flying over the sea, fighting seabirds, and one of them perching on my shoulder last night—well… they are conspicuously absent.

Just like Jai…

The humans speak in harsh whispers to one another, gesturing at the arena and the sea. All of us are dressed in whitethis time—the better to see us as we battle the insane odds?—and I hate that we women were given dresses once again. Dresses are the worst garments to swim and fight in. Or for any occasion, if we’re being honest. They remind me of a fishtail, and now I’m finally getting used to having legs again, I don’t miss it.

However, this is the trial ofair, if I got that right. So why does the sea level inside the arena seem higher than the last time?

My mind can’t focus and formulate a theory. My attention is torn, pulled between the remaining humans and the sneering fae on one side… and the complete and utter lack of a certain dark-eyed, dark-haired man on the other.

Gods.The arena. The arena is what I should be studying, what my mind should be on. Not the humans, not the telchin, not Jai and that kiss, the way he touched my body and made it sing, or the words he spoke afterward, breaking my heart…

And definitely not the fae king who is watching us from higher up, standing on his high balcony.

I know he’s there, because in a passing glance I saw his closest entourage gather around him: a collection of tall, bizarre hats in every color of the rainbow, and long banners of black and gold emblazoned with the royal coat of arms hanging on the palace façade.

He’s there.

I won’t look again.

I won’t look for Jai, either.

This strange panic in my chest has nothing to do with the trial and everything to do with the two of them.

A bad idea, when I should be thinking of myself.

I can’t see much of the arena, even from up here, on this large palace terrace. It’s wreathed in sea mist, tall structures rising out of the water here and there. Towers? Lighthouses? Enormous tree trunks?

What is the king up to now?

My thoughts of him feel oddly distorted. My anger at him is not an arrow anymore; it’s curved and aching as if it’s bent and about to break.

King Rouen is… Mars.

My Mars.